Page 110 of Cursed Bonds: An Alpha's Destiny

“Oh, good,” he said with a smile. “I freaked out when I saw how bare my pantry was. Have a seat. It’s almost ready.”

Waylan rolled his eyes. “‘Freaked out’ is a mild way of putting it. Mr. Stone here, if you haven’t noticed, likes two things above all others: fancy frou-frou coffee and cooking. When he realized he hardly had shit to make you a gourmet fucking dinner, I thought he was gonna have a panic attack.”

Jace pulled a piece of spaghetti from the strainer and slung it at Waylan. The pasta slapped him across the face, sticking to the bridge of his nose.

“What the hell, bro?” Waylan chuckled as he pulled the spaghetti from his face.

“That’s what you get for being an asshole. And stop talking shit about my coffee.”

“What dude has a half dozen different things to brew coffee with?” Waylan asked, holding a hand out to me in a pleading gesture. “It’s weird, right?”

Ignoring them, I took a seat at the bar, plucked a piece of buttered bread from a plate, and stuffed it into my mouth. A few minutes later, I had a massive salad and a bowl of pasta with tomato sauce and cheese in front of me, along with a cold beer Jace had plucked from his fridge.

“God, I’m so hungry,” I said as I dug into the salad.

Jace took a seat beside me while Waylan ate standing up. After a few minutes, Jace and Waylan shared a loaded look, and Jace cleared his throat.

“So, we need to talk.”

I swallowed my bite and sighed. “Ugh. Four of the worst words in the English language.”

“Not like that,” Jace said. “We need to fill you in on what’s about to happen.”

“Shifter stuff,” Waylan said through a mouthful of pasta.

“What kind of stuff?” I asked, already feeling the first tendrils of unease trickle into my mind.

Jace twirled his spaghetti around his fork. “I already told Eren I would challenge him, but I need to make a public announcement to the other alphas in the area.”

“Why is that important? This doesn’t concern them, does it?” I asked. Why would another alpha care that two others were at each other’s throats?

“It’s tradition,” Waylan said.

Jace nodded in agreement. “But it also keeps the packs honest and helps maintain peace. If one alpha simply doesn’t like another alpha, or is getting greedy for their land and people, they could just launch an attack. If that happens enough times, our society descends into chaos. Making a formal declaration of the challenge does multiple things. It ensures that whatever fight the alphas have against each other remains a one-on-one fight to keep innocent casualties at zero. It also informs the other alphas of an issue so they aren’t totally caught off-guard by a fight.”

“Also,” Waylan added, pointing his fork at us, “the other alphas act as a sort of de facto judge and jury for the event.”

“Judge and jury?” I echoed. “What would they decide? Aren’t you two just fighting each other until one loses?” I still didn’t like to think about the fact that this fight was supposed to be to the death.

“A neutral party, selected by the other alphas, will choose a time and date for the challenge,” Jace replied. “They also act as an enforcer. If an alpha gets cold feet and decides not to arrive at the appointed time and day? That alpha forfeits the challenge and loses his place as alpha of his pack. It’s an honor thing.”

“That’s kind of amazing,” I said, and that was honestly the truth. Shifter culture was so different from human culture, it was like a whole other world. Magical, in a brutal and terrifying sort of way.

“Yup,” Jace said. “It keeps everything nice and tidy.”

“Does it have to be to the death?” I asked. “Can’t you, like, get him in a headlock until he says ‘uncle’ or something?”

“To the death,” Jace and Waylan said in unison, looking utterly serious.

My appetite faded as my anxiety rose. I poked at what remained of my food. “I don’t like it. The thought of you getting hurt makes me queasy. Though,” I added with a sardonic smile, “I really doubt Eren has a chance in the world of beating you in a fair fight.”

That made Jace grin, and Waylan rolled his eyes. “You can’t say stuff like that,” Waylan groaned, turning to put his bowl in the sink. “You’re gonna give him an even bigger head than he already has.”

“The challenge is not a sure thing,” Jace said. “Eren could decline and revert to all-out war. Even a shitty alpha would choose the path that leads to the least amount of suffering for his pack. Eren is worse than the worst alpha, though. I could actually see him putting his own pack at risk to save his own ass.”

I hadn’t thought about that possibility. This entire struggle had been so focused on me, Jace, and Eren that I forgot there were hundreds of other people at risk, too. I recalled the young woman at the store when I’d first gone to meet Eren. She’d seemed nice and didn’t deserve to have her life upended—or even ended—because some stupid witch decided to move into the neighboring town.

“What’s wrong?” Jace asked. “I can tell you’re upset about something.”

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